you've heard this one before
by A.X.S.Y
Summary: Mafia AU: In which Victor Nikiforov is a Man for Hire. Urban legends say that, for the right price (and sometimes just for kicks), he can single handedly pull off any job in the world. Beautiful, invincible and filthy rich. Enter Katsuki Yuuri and it all goes to shit.
1. Chapter 1

"There are no happy endings.  
Endings are the saddest part,  
So just give me a happy middle  
And a very happy start."

― Shel Silverstein, Every Thing on It

* * *

 _The Russian Skater._ That's his professional title. It would be on a business card if that's the kind of thing a clean cut, law abiding business man would go for, but that's not usually his customer demographic. Victor considers what he does an art and beauty plays an important role in the execution but more likely than not, the moniker is founded on his love for sharp blades and his demeanor of _ice_.

If you did a little extra digging though, those who knew Victor well enough called him Goldilocks. Partly because he had a knack for walking into a metaphorical bears den, messing about their property and somehow end up hopping out a window unscathed. Partly because his favourite switchblade is gold plated (because he's just THAT Extra). Plus for the irony since, well… his hair.

Don't let the cute nicknames fool you; he is an intelligence agent, a rogue spy, a mafia asset, an assassin, a business man, _A Professional_ in every sense of the word. Call it what you want, the fact was: no one in the world is as good as he is. When you hire Victor Nikiforov, anything in existence can be yours… for a price.

With no family, no friends (friendly professional associates aside) and no relationships to speak of, Victor was untouchable. The closest to companionship was his guard dog, which isn't exactly an easy target. Victor had no pesky emotional weak spots for enemies to prey on, and certainly none in technical skill. He had the perfect profile to be the best at what he does, and he undoubtedly was.

His long time affiliation with Yakov, a stoic old man rumoured to be ex intelligence for Russia's defence sector gone AWOL, provided a steady stream of high profile jobs thanks to a list of former contacts. The payoff had proved to be very rewarding indeed but the thrill dwindled with each successful mission. The first big job had Victor riding an adrenaline rush for two days straight, the second was like chasing a first time high. Then the third and fourth, well you know how that works. At the rate things were going, Victor was looking at retirement at the end of the year.

That is, until Yakov presented Victor with the most lucrative task to date: Intel on a Japanese hot springs, potentially sitting on billions of dollars in the form of an untapped diamond mine. His client needs any dirt available that could legally shut the place down, of course illegally obtaining the deeds to the land could also work, the pay is the same either way.

Yakov gives him a briefing; Victor's main target was the son of the family, a fresh faced 23 year old named Yuuri Katsuki. Their first meeting was to be a banquet dinner in Sochi for small time business owners looking to network internationally. The Katsuki family has been under a lot of pressure to sell their hot springs and must be looking for some powerful partnerships. This is where Victor comes in, a wolf in human clothing, the only thing left was to decide on was the costume. Victor spends some time debating on which angle he should play. Father figure? Older Brother? Best friend? But then he hears through some grapevine gossip that Yuuri Katsuki is inexperienced in love and a sucker for pretty boys, _perfect._

This story has been told again and again and again, Victor knows it in every form imaginable. Happy endings, sad endings, open endings, unexpected ones and those who wait for an ending that may never come (which was arguably, in Victor's opinion, the most realistic of them all).

Books and movies and everything in between trying to capture a Forbidden Love Story, _those stupid people._ Who believes in such fairytales these days, or better yet, who can afford to? Certainly not someone in Victor's position. He scoffed at the tales of an unconditional and all consuming love between two people who otherwise led two separate and fully functional lives right up until the day they meet. These authors are selling fiction in its very definition, such a love does not exist and those who believe it deserve the disappointment a cut throat reality will inevitably bring. Victor knows this better than anyone else. _I am all I need._

A story that's been told again and again and again, and Victor knows it in every form imaginable. So he shouldn't be surprised when Yuuri Katsuki gets inappropriately drunk to compensate for his lack of social skill and zeroes in on that gorgeous silver haired suit and tie eyeing him from across the room. Shouldn't be surprised when Yuuri leads Victor in a passionate tango that ends up with a slurred proposition to be business partners. Victor shouldn't be surprised when his heartbeat picks up because Yuuri's eyes sparkle in a way that reminds him of the diamond mines he suddenly wants nothing to do with.

Victor shouldn't be surprised when he spends that night alone staring at the hotel ceiling, Yakov's number pulled up on his burner phone, thumb hovering above the call icon. The phone screen fades out after two minutes but Victor stays in that position until sunrise. Victor shouldn't be surprised because he knows what happens next.

Yakov knows something is wrong when he calls for an update. Victor plays it off as much as he can, _yes I'm in. yes of course it's under control, no he hasn't forgotten about the pay, yes Victor is playing the lover, YES he is Just Playing, no this will not be the job that ruins him._ Yakov hangs up on him mid sentence because they both know what happens next.

It happens as it always does, Victor cautiously steps into Yuuri's life intending to get the job done, walk away with clean hands and a 7 digit pay cheque. But the Katsuki family welcomes him with open arms, and maybe Victor overhears Yuuri's mom exclaiming that it's about time he brought someone home, and maybe Victor just barely catches himself smiling for no one in particular.

Days then weeks then months pass, and Yuuri's tightly wound armour of nerves unravels under Victor's gentle prodding (this is just how it's done) and his smiles are sweet so Victor reciprocates (this is just how it's done), these are their roles and this is just how it's done. Victor knows the next part involves throwing caution to the wind and falling head over heels in love with someone he's not supposed to. He does exactly that.

They attend meetings with contractors and property managers and banks, the logistics of their hot springs is laid bare left and right. Victor purposefully blurs all the details in his memory ( _Yuuri! lets go out drinking to celebrate!_ ), tells himself none of this can be used (everyone flubs the tax forms) and that it's all (mostly) legitimate anyways.

Yakov's phone calls get more frequent and more demanding, the deadline hangs ominously above Viktor's head, he imagines the swoosh it makes when it falls. How does this story end again?

Yuuri pokes Victor on the swirl of his head where his hair is thinning, introduces him to pork cutlet bowls, bathes naked with him in the hot springs but refuses to share a bed the same night. Victor is more hurt than offended (his tactics haven't failed to date), until Victor realizes he genuinely wants to spend the night with Yuuri and then he's just scared.

They kiss one night after a fight, Yuuri has an ugly crying face and Victor never wants to see it again. Then they kiss again another time and sleep with the hotel beds pushed together for a business trip. They make a habit out of that when travelling. Sometimes they hold hands and get food together and go skating and Yuuri gets miffed when Victor is careless with his charms.

Then, the night before a big appointment with the loan manager (the business is losing money but it's still a family thing), Yuuri buys a pair of gold wedding rings for… good luck and jams one on Victor's ring finger. Well, anything for good luck, Victor tells him knowing exactly what it means and puts a matching one on Yuuri's trembling right hand. There is no conflict to where Victor's loyalties lie, none, even though that's not how the story goes. He is losing his place in the plot, the gold ring usually doesn't come until the closing act, right?

On the day of the meeting, Victor and Yuuri are sat in the waiting area of a posh bank in Da Lian and Yuuri is visibly anxious. The future of their multi generational family business is more or less dependent on the next 30 minutes and Victor wants nothing more than to hear the word approved. Forget Yakov, forget the job, Victor wants to see Yuuri happy and he'll fork over the money himself if that's what it comes down to. They've spent the better part of a year fighting for this and Victor cannot remember the last time any job, regardless of pay stirred this kind of desperate burning inside his chest.

They both hold Styrofoam cups with lukewarm instant coffee, they both sip on it purely for the distraction. The room is silent except for the _tick tick tick_ of an unseen clock and Victor is a patient man but seeing Yuuri like this was not something he'd like to do for one more _tick_. The room is too warm and Victor is actually starting to feel a little nauseous, he turns to Yuuri but the floors are tilting and the edges of his vision is blurring and…..

When Victor wakes up, he's sat on the tarmac outside leaning against a brick wall. It's drizzling and there's puddle under his thigh so his pants are uncomfortably wet. There's a sour smell, like garbage left in the sun too long, it's really not helping with the residual nausea. Victor's mind fog clears up fast enough for him to realize he's in the back alley between a clump of industrial buildings. _Oh,_ Victor thinks, _I'm usually on the other side of this situation which means…_

"Vitya." Yakov says (is that… _pity?_ )

"You're awake. I'm sure it's been a long day, we can debrief tomorrow."

Yakov is walking away and Victor is asking something he doesn't want to hear the answer to.

"Where is he? Where is Yuuri Katsuki?"

This story has been told again and again and again, Victor knows it in every form imaginable. He also knows the happy endings exist in the vacuum of fiction and divine miracles for stories like his. B _ut Yuuri Katsuki exists in the same realm as fairytales and divine miracles, this story can't end here. It just can't. Not Yuuri, not HIS Yuuri whereishewhereishewhereishewhereishewhereishewhereishewhereishewhereishewhereishewhe-_

Yakov takes a long hard look at him (it is definitely pity) and slowly pulls out an standard, white envelope. There is no doubt a plane ticket and his payment in full, too bad Victor wants none of it. He makes no move to take it, he doesn't want it, he didn't finish the job, he doesn't even want the job anymore _please just tell me where Yuuri is. please please please please please the story doesn't end here it doesnt please where is he where is yuuri please please_

Yakov can read Victor every bit as good as a flashing neon sign but in the end, business is business. "He is where he is supposed to be."

 _Sorry, you knew the risks._

"Your job is complete, Vitya. Go home."

* * *

Yuuri doesn't know where he is, what day it is, or why he can't see out of his left eye. The last thing he remembers is the waiting room, the warmth radiating from Victor next to him, the funny tasting coffee and then nothing. There's a steady _drip drip drip,_ he wonders if it's water, blood or sweat. He wonders where Victor is and if he's in pain.

Yuuri almost laughs to himself, this scene is something out of a movie. The dark damp room with no windows, a single flickering light bulb, being tied to a folding chair while a faceless man with a crowbar works out some deep seated psychological issues on Yuuri himself, no doubt.

The man asks about the land deed to Yu-topia, he says Victor was an undercover agent sent to obtain those papers, that none of it was real and Yuuri has been played and betrayed.

 _Well the ring on my finger says otherwise._

Yuuri is glad they cuffed his hands behind the chair, it meant he was free to run his thumb across the gold band on his ring finger, it grounded him. If this is how he dies then… _so much for a good luck charm. I guess it was an engagement ring after all._

Yuuri tells the man that he knows better than to trust someone who's beating the shit out of him with a crowbar. Which of course earns him another loving strike across his collarbone.

"Still not talking huh?"

 _Drip drip._

Yuuri closes his eyes and goes back…

* * *

It's sunny and Victor invited him out to get brunch, they eat at a little Italian cafe. This was the first time Yuuri agreed to meet Victor without any pretense of business, this was a date. Victor tells him about the time he spent abroad in Italy, about the bits of Italian that stick to his memory, about why it really deserves a place amongst the romantic languages. When they leave, Victor is humming a tune with a little smile. " _Stammi vicino non te ne andare_ " Victor sings, and Yuuri asks him what it means.

Victor blushes, looks away and says, "Stay close to me, and never leave."

Yuuri smiles.

 _Okay. I can do that._


	2. Chapter 2

"There are two kinds of secrets. The ones we keep from others and the ones we keep from ourselves."

\- Frank Warren

* * *

 _The Russian Playboy_ sounded a bit lewd but no one, certainly not Victor, would bat an eyelash should Skater ever go out of style. There were more than a handful of names in Victors' little black book, and whether the names were passport official or throwaway aliases mattered very little. That game has been played through and through. The only lovers he'd taken were the physical kind, flirting was a second language and sex appeal was a blade Victor carried with him past the most thorough pat downs, the standard metal detector didn't stand a chance.

This time though, the requirements have changed with the objective. _Trust, dependence, emotional intimacy,_ while foreign to Victor on a personal level, were well understood as general concepts. He needed to become someone who could extract these bonds under an illusion of mutual reciprocation while giving nothing in return. How exciting, Victor's never played this kind of undercover before.

Yakov tries to give him The Talk, tries tell him don't get compromised, and Victor almost gets a cramp from laughing. Then he realizes Yakov was being serious, and _wow, that's offensive._ Victor thinks maybe it's in the handbook for Big Time Criminals, like a work safety slideshow presentation, just one of those speeches they make to avoid liability. Like, _I warned you so if you fall on your ass, don't go pointing any fingers._ Or maybe Yakov watched one too many spy dramas where the leading man was a devastatingly handsome twenty seven year old with silver hair. Who knows and who cares, Victor couldn't compromise himself even if he tried (and that was saying something).

"That kind of confidence will get you killed." Yakov tells him.

"Well it's gotten me this far, hasn't it?" Victor puts on his most alluring smile and thinks about which suit it would go best with.

Katsuki Yuuri was cute, sure, but not exactly throw away a pay cheque with more digits than a phone number cute. Not disregard your illustrious career, reputation and subsequent life cute. Not compromise the underground legend, THE Victor Nikiforov cute.

Definitely not _that_ cute.

* * *

The banquet happens.

Victor is eating every single word, spoken and thought, and it's like chewing gravel. A bright eyed virgin primed for a classic pump and dump, this is literally textbook. But Victor can't seem to spit out that mouth full of rocks when _Pasión de Arrabal_ is still stuck in his head. Yuuri may be a sucker for pretty boys but Victor just found out he has a thing for dancers born from liquid courage.

He's lying in a fully made hotel bed, one that's supposed to have a naked, well fucked, _not that cute_ Japanese man tangled in its sheets. Victor doesn't particularly mind that Yuuri isn't there, he minds that he doesn't mind. Wrap your head around that one. Victor's been lying here for three hours and eleven minutes and he still hasn't managed to.

Victor does not take his (favourite) suit off even though half a glass worth of champagne is soaked through the right lapel and it's sticky to the touch. Victor isn't even mad. Instead he dials in Yakov's number because for the first time in never, he doubts. This wasn't about skill, and failing to bed Yuuri on their first night of meeting was hardly notable in the long run. This was about a lopsided transaction that was so straight forward on paper. About Victors' infamous blade sheathed in empty charm stabbing Yuuri in the throat and hollowing him out with a smile. About walking away with hands that can be washed clean or even walking away at all.

Can it be done?

 _Yes._

Could Victor do it?

 _Compromised._

Is that what Yakov was talking about? No. All Victor needs is more time to think this through. Three hours and forty four minutes was obviously not enough.

* * *

Double speak is hardly a new concept in Victor's line of work, not quite code and not quite pretense, both parties operating under the assumption that the other is smart enough to figure out x means y. For those involved, creating a thin layer of plausible deniability was more for security than deception, but the latter was a whole other ballgame. When it comes to hidden intentions, Victor has nothing to hide. What he intends is what he intends, if his own desires do not align with those of the clients, he will state them in no unclear terms.

Because what's Yakov going to do? Take him off the job? He'd go off the grid and complete the damn thing before Yakov is done briefing his second choice. Victor is The Best for a good reason, he has nothing to lose that money can't buy back and no leverage means no one to answer to. At worst, it's a stern lecture followed by the silent treatment but in the end Victor gets what Victor wants because there's no one that can stop him.

Which is to say, Yakov can hear everything that Victor doesn't say because Victor lets him and it saves everyone a load of time. This particular situation however, tore at that delicate homoeostasis. Victor's got something to hide. He just needs to figure out _what_ before Yakov does.

It doesn't matter in the end, Yakov calls because Victor hasn't, which means he already knows.

"He actually beat me to the punch." Victor laughs. "Asked to be business partners before he asked for my name." Yuuri was also fourteen flutes of champagne in and used his (ugly, ugly, ugly) necktie as a lasso, but why would Yakov care to hear so Victor doesn't care to say.

Unfortunately, Victors' lack of disclosure is incriminating enough. Victor tries to coat his words with a pretty little layer of frost, hoping to refract the piercing questions, but Yakovs' been in this business for too long.

The double speak between them is no longer the kind between _professionals_ , it's the kind between the _knowing_ and the _guilty_. It's that kind that translates to leverage.

(When a parent catches their child in a lie and the child knows they've been caught and the parent knows the child knows but right now, they're in public).

"Vitya."

 _I warned you._

"Do you happen to know any good dry cleaners in the area? "

 _It's under control, I'm in._

"Pick up the pace, you're on a schedule."

 _Oh really? Muscle it out of him or you're off the job._

"I don't like to be rushed."

 _No._

"For what my client is paying, you can stand to be a little more accommodating"

 _You won't rough up a nobody with this amount of money on the line, how telling._

"The only thing your client is paying for is results."

 _I've. Got. It. Under. Control. Don't make me blow my cover because you're paranoid._

"Then come back to St. Petersburg. I've got something else in mind for you."

 _Katsuki Yuuri is no longer your assignment, drop it._

"Not interested."

 _Why should I?_

"I'm sending someone to handle damage control. You can catch the next train back."

 _Because you are transparent._

"Georgi will botch it up."

 _He solves every problem with a lead pipe._

"I assure you he won't."

 _and that's a problem, is it?_

"I'm not compromised."

 _silence_

"Yakov I'm no-"

 _click._

Victor won't leave because his reputation is on the line. _He wants to see Yuuri Katsuki again._

Victor won't change his tactic because when has he ever done something NOT his way. _He thinks about Yuuri's blood on his knuckles and it makes him sick._

Victor won't give up this pay cheque because it is exactly what he needs in for a cushy retirement. _He wonders what it's like to want something that money can't buy._

Victor wants to see Yuuri Katsuki again. _He really wants a lot more than that._

* * *

Yakov sends Plisetsky to get Victor back.

"Yakov," Plisetsky calls him that very same day with unsurprising news. "We're in trouble."


	3. Chapter 3

" [You] took down my life as from a shelf,  
And blew the dust away." - Boris Pasternak, Out of Superstition

* * *

 _A hometown hero_. Minako says to Yuuri as he packs a suitcase for the upcoming business trip. Hasetsu needed to establish some lifelines and it was up to Yuuri Katsuki to make it happen.

Hasetsu was a tourist town, small and cozy with valuable land but the past couple of years have been a battle for small time businesses to stay out of bankruptcy. Yu-topia, one of the final hot springs in Hasetsu left was sinking and his parents have been under scrutiny to keep the books in the black. Even in the face of increasingly aggressive contractors offering to take it off their hands, the land Yu-topia stood on was their version of the family heirloom, it was not up for sale.

 _We're counting on you, Yuuri!_ He knows they're supposed to be words of encouragement and yet all he feels are the burden of roles he needed to fill. Carrying on the hopes of his entire family and the residents of Hasetsu by proxy did not make Yuuri feel like the valiant hometown hero everyone else expected him to be.

Yuuri spent the last 5 years abroad in America, studying as an undergrad at Berkeley for a degree in Marketing and Entrepreneurship with the intent of returning to revive the family business. He graduated with honours, so Yuuri knows how to crunch out numbers and graphs on projected growth, on efficiency, on trend line predictions with the best of them, that was never the real hurdle. Networking presented a challenge, surrounded by charisma and innate charm, Yuuris' anxiety weighed down on him. Still, Yuuri could manage to get by with his hard knowledge and a few close friends.

Problems arose when it came to presentations, where his charts and figures failed, regardless of how accurate they may be. Yuuri realizes that a large part of being successful with clients was about selling _yourself_ rather than the product. Selling yourself as someone competent, self assured and thrives under the pressure of great responsibility. Someone clients can trust with their assets, someone who won't buckle. Unfortunately, professors never covered much of that in lecture.

This upcoming banquet would serve as a major opportunity to make connections with powerful investors that Hasetsu would otherwise never even hear of. No more quietly standing in the shadows, Yuuri needed to be on top of his game and _stand out._

* * *

Yuuri loses track after drink number 6. The world got soft around the edges and he feels as if the entire room is filled with old friends he just happened to forget. Except, Yuuri can feel someone watching him in his periphery, could it be an actual old friend? Yuuri turns to look and... Definitely not someone you could forget easily, if at all. If Yuuri wasn't drunk he'd swear that man was glowing.

 _No to old friend, Yes to whatever that man wants to be_.

 _Who is he?_ Yuuri doesn't know if he said that out loud but someone answers anyways.

"Victor! I didn't expect to see you here." A cheery woman in an evening gown approaches the glowing man and embraces him in a hug. When Victor turns to greet her, Yuuri zeros in trying catch Victor's eyes, _do you see me?_ He succeeds for a split second and is sure the moment deserves a slow motion replay, _not enough time_ has never been such a big problem.

That's it. Yuuri has just had four more glasses of something that turns everything around him into a fairytale and the prince just spotted his beau of the ball. He's certain the fantasy ends when the clock strikes midnight and every glass he knocks back just delays that hour a little longer. Yuuri never knew beer goggles, he just has champagne tinted glasses and it comes with a certain brand of confidence.

The DJ puts on a new track and a seductive rhythm kicks his fairytale off to an intoxicating start. Yuuri is pulling at his tie and swaying across the lounge to introduce himself to _Victor_. The beautiful glowing man raises his eyebrows in surprise when he catches sight of Yuuri just short of charging at him. Its debatable if Yuuris hips are rolling with the music or he is just...enthusiastic. Yuuri stops a few steps short, extends a hand out to Victor with half hooded eyes and his shirt more than half unbuttoned.

 _Dance with me. Not a question._

It's a bit obscene.

When Victor tentatively slips his fingers into Yuuris' open palm, Yuuri sees the devils mischief in a smile. His hand closes around Victors and Yuuri pulls him forward hard enough Victor almost stumbles. Yuuris body is there to catch him, they're pressed flush from knee to chest when Victor swings his right leg back for support and caresses his left thigh up against Yuuris' leg. The mischief in Victor smile transforms into...

"It is a tango, after all." He says to Yuuri, voice reverberating through them both. Yuuri didn't expect the accent but certainly appreciates it.

Yuuris' free hand is pressed against the small of his back (pull him closer, no, _closer_ ) and with the other sliding slowly down Victors' arm, he cross steps the both of them onto the dance floor. Victors traces a figure 8 and snaps into a back boleo with his leg bent upwards into a v while the other stays extended behind him, toes sliding against the marble floor as Yuuri pulls him forward. He doesn't break eye contact so why should Yuuri, they're both deadlocked in a gaze, barely catching their breath in a sweetheart embrace. Yuuri pivots Victor in a carousel and with forehead to forehead, dips Victors backwards with an arm wrapped around his waist. The song, as if on cue, plays a woman's breathless moan.

 _Obscene_.

All those years of lessons in Minako's studio might as well have been built for this moment. Yuuri makes a mental note of getting Minako a nice present for her next birthday.

At one point, Yuuri mistakes Victors' step back for a move to walk away so he pulls the loosened tie over his head and with impressive accuracy, tosses the loop over Victor, giving a very firm tug once around the Russian man's neck. The _gasp_ he hears is not from the song.

Everyone, dance floor and beyond, is staring. Staring and scandalized and possibly taking photos. Had there been children present, their eyes would be covered by a parents' hand.

 _Where do you think you're going?_

They are close enough for Yuuri to steal a breath from Victor. An arm wraps gently around Victors back and Victors arm is draped across his shoulders. In the figures of Argentine Tango, this particular expression of emotion has a name; _you are mine._

Victor whispers in Yuuris' ear about his impressive stamina and Yuuri is determined to prove him right. Either the DJ had an extensive block of fiery tango music planned or Cupid himself, was enjoying the show. By the time the dance floor clears, the pair has danced to fourteen songs back to back. They end in a dramatic final figure, with Victors' leg hooked on top of Yuuris' thigh and their bodies pressed together from the chest down. If Victor was feeling tired before, he's certainly feeling something else now.

When the night comes to a close, Yuuri is responsible for 15 empty flutes though he only drank 14.5. Victor is wearing the last half in his jacket and only then decides it might be a good time for the alcohol to stop flowing. Yuuri is clinging to Victor, his hips rolling on their own accord, slurring out his subconscious. "Victooooor" Yuuris' arms squeeze around his new dance partner. "Come viii-situh me in Haasetsuuu, my family owns a HOT springs, it's reeeeally w-" GASP. "Let's be bussinessssss partners Victooor... I'll give you mmhmyy carrrr-duh, you'll be my partner riiight?"

Victor blushes but Yuuri does not notice.

The next morning, Yuuri doesn't remember much from his alcohol induced fairytale. There are some fuzzy snippets in his memory about dancing with a beautiful, possibly glowing man and asking him to become part of his professional network... or something. All Yuuri knows for sure is that he ended up in the right bed in the morning with his phone and wallet intact, dignity not withstanding. Well, it was his bed, whether or not the right one is up for discussion.

On the night stand there is a glass of water and a business card. It just says _Victor_ with a phone number listed below. If Yuuri was more observant, he would also see the faint outline of a kiss preserved in Chanel lip balm on the back. But he isn't, and the kiss goes undelivered.

After an abnormal amount of social media stalking and a relentless stream of _what do I say?_ _Because oh my god this guy is going to think I'm a drunken idiot that hits on strangers and propositions them to be an investor in his family business while partially undressed and Victor probably dumped him off in the hotel room after drunk Yuuri passed out post banquet. Which means he probably took a taxi with drunk Yuuri, had to dig through drunk Yuuris pockets for a room key, took off shoes, socks and glasses for drunk Yuuri, most likely got propositioned to be another kind of partner by drunk Yuuri and declined from the lack of a Victor shaped imprint in the space next to him. Oh god._

Sober Yuuri mentally berates the drunk one for messing up a legitimate chance to network with apparently a powerful and wealthy business mogul.

There is no way on the face of this planet Yuuri is calling Victor. He is flying back to Hasetsu and never drinking again.

* * *

Four days and a snow storm later, Victor shows up at Yu-topia. Yuuri finds him soaking in the hot springs. Naked. _So very naked._

Victor moves in with Yuuri that very same night. There aren't many hotels in Hasetsu and their banquet hall has been doing little outside of collecting dust so Victor asks to rent it out. Yuuri's mom, Hiroko, would have accepted a smile as payment. Hiroko tells Yuuris' sister how glad she is now that Yuuris' FINALLY brought someone home. _So handsome too!_

Yuuri insists it's not like that. Mari gives him a pointed look. Victor is lying on the floor, sleeping, but not really.

That night, Yuuri realizes his heart is pounding because he is _so happy._


	4. Chapter 4

"In art as in love, instinct is enough. " ― Anatole France

* * *

 _Plisetsky, I need you to run an errand for me._

 _Way ahead of you, old man._ Yuri Plisetsky is already on his way to the airport, luggage in tow. Victor owes him a debt anyways.

 _You can go AWOL when you're dead, goldilocks. But not before you teach me everything you know._

Plisetsky shows up in Hasetsu with murder in his eyes. Victor was unofficially promised as his mentor by the rate he was excelling through the ranks. People in this particular line of work don't tend to die of old age, who knows when a living legend becomes an urban myth. A successor will always be expected, if not welcomed. When Plisekty brought a knife to a gun fight, and won, Victor was in the car that picks him up.

"That was impressive, I could teach you a thing or two." So Victor was willing to take him under his wing and if Plisetsky could make it out alive, he's chosen to be next in line. Plisetsky accepts with a handshake.

He finds Victor sitting by the beach, alone and off guard. _He's gotten sloppy._ "HEY GOLDILOCKS!"

Victor's armour is on in the blink of an eye and it comes with a big, smug smile. "ah Plisetsky, did you miss me ?"

"Are you enjoying your little vacation?" Plisetsky walks up to him.

Victor keeps his eyes on the water. "Are you here to join me?"

"You know damn well why I'm here. I'm here to haul your ass back to Russia so we can get to work."

Victor remembers their conversation in the car and shrugs. "Here to collect debt? I don't remember there being a deadline."

"Stop fucking around, Victor." Plisetsky spits out at him. "Yakov says you've gone rogue, like hell that's gonna happen if you don't follow through on our deal first. I don't wanna wait around just for you to take those trade secrets to the grave."

"Okay, I'll give you a secret, my loyalties lie with only me." Victor finally turns to look at him. "If Yakov doesn't like it then I'm sure he can hire someone for that. But whoever he hires better be good, cause I'll put up a fight."

"What the _hell_ have they been slipping into your drink, are you seriously willing to make an enemy out of _Yakov_ just to protect some straight edge loser?"

"I'm not making an enemy out of anyone, but no one is going to force me to do anything I don't want to. Besides, I've gotten no payment, my client doesn't need a refund from me. What's it to him?"

"He says you're _compromised_." Plisetsky says it like its a dirty word, he looks at Victor. "and I'm starting to believe him."

Victor gives a derisive chuckle. "Why? because I don't cater to his every whim? He wants me to break out the brass knuckles when I can get it done without calling the janitors. Besides," He says casually, "I'm having fun with this one."

"For that amount of money, most people don't ask for your preferences." It sure looks like whatever Victor's doing might actually be a lot messier than just dumping a body.

"And the client asked for me anyways. You want me to teach you? Stick around and shadow me, nothing beats full immersion study. And in the meanwhile, you can use some of that time to can come up with an excuse to tell Yakov why you, or anyone else for that matter, can't _make_ me do a thing."

"And if Katsuki just happens to have an unfortunate accident in the meanwhile," Plisetsky digs his heel into the sand, using his words to jab at Victor like needles. "Would you come back then?" _Would that bother you, Victor?_

"As long as you don't mind explaining to Yakov why you've buried his point of entry. Oh, and pay out of pocket to compensate for my time." Victor tilts his head, his hair falls to side, Plisetsky finds himself staring down daggers. " _and maybe I decide I don't want money_."

A chill runs up his spine, getting on Victor's bad side was a death wish on a good day. He reconsiders backup plans.

* * *

Later that night, Yuuri runs off to the dance studio while Victor is napping. Around midnight, Victor goes for a quiet evening stroll to pick Yuuri up. He thinks Plisetsky's threat is full of shit, but it's raining and Yuuri didn't bring an umbrella. _Oh well_ , maybe Yuuri will be so touched by his act of kindness he'll _finally_ let Victor sleep with him. _And it's always a treat to watch Yuuri dance,_ Victor thinks back to the banquet, the memory tugs on the corner of his lips. There's a soft look in his eyes and he would kill anyone who pointed it out.

 _A week earlier, when Yakov finds out Victor flew off to Hasetsu, they have a one sided conversation that goes no where._

 _"-and you know better than anyone it's the equivalent of declaring yourself a walking target. With the amount of enemies you've made, might as well paint a cross hair on your forehead. There are a lot of people gunning for you, Vitya, this is not a wise move. If you go through with this it might be the last thing you eve-"_

 _Victor hangs up on him to hail a taxi._

 _"Where to?"_

 _"Yutopia."_

 _That kind of confidence will get you killed._

This was looking to be more and more likely. Victor's never felt more alive.

* * *

Plisetsky is crouched underneath the stairs leading to Minako's dance studio, handgun tucked into the band of his jeans. He trailed Katsuki Yuuri here hours ago, and the streets have emptied since then. A constant downpour beats down on the city, water splashes through the spaces between the wooden steps, soaking Plisetksy's jacket. By the time Yuuri walks out, there would likely be no witnesses, it's raining hard enough to muffle the sound but there's a silencer strapped to his left calf just in case. It'll be an ideal set up for his original plan.

Yakov tells him, _use your discretion._ Which to Plisetsky means, _if it comes down to it, no holds barred._

If he neutralizes the target and Victor returns to St. Petersburg, Yakov will protect him until the heat dies down. But that's under the assumption he'll make it out of Hasetsu alive. After his chat with Victor on the beach, chances were slim. Victor made his stance quite clear.

Plisetsky is correct in his assumption but doesn't find out through (a likely painful) experience because Victor is stomping up the steps ten minutes later. When he comes back down with the Katsuki boy, he stops mid step and tells Yuuri to wait for him at the bottom. Victor sits down under the guise of tying his shoelaces and with his head hanging upside down, stares right at Plisetsky through the gap between steps. Plisetsky knows there is no way Victor could see him through the dark but flinches anyways. Those eyes looked feral.

 _You want Katsuki Yuuri? Then you better go through me._

 _Shit._

"Yakov." Plisetsky was really hoping to avoid this. "We're in trouble."

 _Victor just waged war._

Plisetsky decides to change up his tactics. Intel was as good as gold when it comes to war, maybe it's time to play nice and see if he could at least get something out of this.

 _Stick around and shadow me, nothing beats full immersion study, Victor said._

Victor's offer was lucrative enough. He could get away from training and pick up a few things while he's here anyways. Low danger, high efficiency. Besides, looks like Victor has got something up his sleeve, what's got him so invested?

Not a what, but a whom. This becomes pretty obvious pretty fast.

Plisetsky introduces himself as Victors godson, he stays at Yutopia with them, things are... confusing. First night there and Yuuri's sister keeps staring at him, Plisetsky almost wonders what she knows until she asks for an autograph mistaking him for someone called Takao. A family friend called Yuko visits and treats him the same way she treats her six year old triplets. _Hey lady, I kill people for money_ , he wants to say if she could only stop patting him on the head long enough to listen. Something about her voice is less grating than he'd like to admit.

Plisetsky tails them on outings, Victor knows and puts on a show.

They're in a music store when Victor makes a move. He's talking to Yuuri about a song with a two part arrangement: Eros and Agape. Yuuri puts on the headphones to listen to a sample. He says he can identify agape but eros... then Victor is stepping between his legs, rubbing his thumb against Yuuri's lip, whispering something that makes Yuuri knock discs off the display. Plisetsky stops trying to read their lips, intel be damned, he genuinely does not want to know.

Plisetky cringes, Yuuri is two bpms short of cardiac arrest and Victor has his arm draped around Yuuri for the rest of their time out. Victor declares to the world with his presence, _Katsuki Yuuri is mine._

And yet, Victor and Yuuri sleep in separate rooms, Plisetsky is bewildered. _So Victor's playing the lover but not getting any... and he's let it continue like this?_ _For someone who's opting for a cleaner tactic you sure look waist deep in shit._

Plisetsky sees how Victor looks at Yuuri when he thinks no one's looking. _Victor really has gotten sloppy, there is always someone looking._

Plisetsky sees him, and Victor is _gone._ One photograph of the two of them passed around in the wrong circles and Victor can wave his _invincibility_ bye bye. Plisetsky takes exactly one photo, the word leverage comes to mind.

He isn't sure when Yakov expects him back but purposely leaves his phone unchecked for hours. There really is something in the water.

* * *

For the next couple of weeks, Yuuri is bombarded with questions. Minako ask, Yuko and Nishigori ask, the triplets ask relentlessly, even the regulars at Yu-Topia can't help but spare a curious look at the good looking foreigner.

 _Hey Yuuri did you go out for a business partner but come back with a boyfriend?_

 _Hey Yuuri does he know you've never been in a relationship before?_

 _Hey Yuuri is that kid really his godson?_

 _Are you meeting his family soon?_

 _Is it true you're already living together?_

 _If you guys get married does that mea-_

Yuuri insists Victor is here for work. Nobody believes him.

Victor has experience in large scale property management. Victor has private accounts in Luxembourg and Isle of Man. Victor is charming and aggressive in business and in leisure. Yuuri doubts himself and spends all his free time at the dance studio.

Then Victor starts asking.

 _Do you have feelings for Minako?_

 _No, of course not!_

 _Do you have a lover?_

 _No..._

 _What about past lovers?_

 _(no comment)_

 _Let's build some trust in the relationship,_ Victor tells Yuuri with his fingers gently sliding under his jawline. Yuuri doesn't want to open his mouth because his heart might plop onto the ground. He draws back and regrets it because there is hurt in Victors eyes.

 _I'm not good enough for you. You can do better. Why are you here? Am I wasting your time?_

Yuuris' thoughts race through his mind every night when Victor asks to sleep together and he says _no_ like it's a rejection when it's a fear of inadequacy.

Victor calls Yuuri Любимая моя, and Yuuri hasn't looked it up but he gets the gist going by _how_ Victor says it. Tender and urgent. Victor and Plisetsky both eat katsudon like they've never had a home cooked meal before. Yuuri feels immense envy at how Plisetsky, at only fifteen years old, can present himself as Victor's equal. Yuuri finds common ground in how the grumpy teen has taken a liking to Yuko. _Me too, buddy. Me too._

When the paper work starts coming out, Victor gawks at how long the money trail extends back, The Katsuki family paid nothing less than a fortune when they initially bought this piece of land in the middle of seemingly no where. Yuuri fidgets a bit and says his great grandparents didn't really do much research when it came to entrepreneurship and inevitably got swindled. The finances are a mess, most of the records are still kept in binders with no electronic back up.

Yuuri is fountain of confidential information.

 _...Yeah the property tax is too high for the land value but we can't afford to have it reevaluated because it doesn't comply with standard building codes..._

 _...the customer traffic here isn't always stable so when things are slow, there's some under the table activity..._

 _...Oh, I used to work for Minako at the bar and just put the income back into our hot springs..._

 _...my mom will rent out rooms for months at a time, it's considered lodging and technically not allowed..._

 _...not a self sufficient business... just a don't ask don't tell policy... being audited would mean game over..._

Sometimes Yuuri thinks he sees Victor's eyes glaze over while he's explaining. _Am I boring him?_

Victor keeps asking Yuuri to go out drinking after meetings, Yuuri barely remembers the banquet and would like to avoid a repeat. He says no and Victor gets black out drunk anyways.

Victor hears everything, and he's got a few ideas.

Tourism spikes from the number of celebrities and famous personas that, suddenly and coincidentally, come to Hasetsu for a quiet weekend away. When asked why, the answer is consistent, they had a referral, _from a friend_. Suddenly loan managers are calling the Katsuki residence and offering staggeringly low rates like they're asking for a favour. The contractors that used to bang down their doors every Saturday morning have all dropped off the face of the earth.

Yuuri hears Victor's phone ring from outside the room but sees a small, dim rectangular light through the thin fabric of his pocket. _Second cellphone for work?_ Not unheard of but the screen is far too small for a high performance smart phone, it more resembles one of those ancient Nokia brick phones. _A work phone but not email enabled, no internet access, maybe not even a colour screen._ Yuuri feels like something is off but can't bring himself to ask. Victor steps out for phone calls only to come back with a hard to read expression.

Then Christophe Giacometti, the well loved predecessor of a Swiss bank, ranked 22nd most influential person by World Finance and voted 14th sexiest man alive in Gentlemen's Quarterly, drops by Yutopia and asks for Victor by name. Yuuri is very curious about how that friendship came to be. Victor has a only a trace of online presence and yet knows some of the most influential people in the business word on a first name basis. So, influential circle, minimal personal information and throwaway cellphones. All of this spells out one thing: he's a Big Deal. _So why is he here?_ Yuuri can't figure it out.

In the meanwhile, he notices Victor has a habit of sizing up everyone they meet, anyone within arms reach, whether they're right or left handed, if they're alone or with a group. Victor always knows where the exits are, whether there are cameras and if so, how many. Victor knows what time a place closes, who the manager is and what kind of car they drive. It's unsettling.

 _But the smile is in the eyes_. Yuuri knows when Victor is genuine and when he is just polite. Yuuri sees Victor eat katsudon like it's the first time, every time and constantly looks for excuses to sneak into Yuuri's room before bed. Yuuri doesn't let him stay but bathes with him in the hot springs beforehand to soften the blow. Yuuri finally looks up the tidbits of Russian that Victor throws around ( _Let's go to the beach today, Дорогая моя_ ) and is secretly giddy. He writes translations on a post it note and sticks it to the underside of his desk.

* * *

Plisetsky _knows_ things are going downhill when Victor starts calling in favours and avoiding Yakov like the plague. It won't be long until he's in enemy territory so he starts packing. There's nothing else to be done, surveillance will be their best bet while he goes back to train with Yakov. Before he leaves, Plisetsky plants cameras around the hot springs, Victor is too distracted to notice. _The Victor I knew would be appalled._ Is this really _The Russian Skater_ who carved himself into a legend? Is this who Plistesky wants as his mentor? It doesn't matter at this point, Plisetsky hops on a flight to Russia without saying goodbye.

* * *

Minako is nosy and wants to interrogate Yuuri. She gets a chance when Yuuri shows up at the dance studio on her night off, buzzing with nervous energy.

"I don't know why he's here."

"Maybe he just wants a break."

"I thought that too but I don't want to hear it..."

"Maybe he likes you." Minako says coyly.

Yuuri doesn't mind hearing that one.

"A bachleor like him...?" Yuuri trails off. _With the world in his hands, and he's still pursuing me._

"Are you afraid he's playing you?"

Yuuri isn't sure. He doesn't feel very worthy and he just really doesn't understand _why_. But when Yuuri begins to second guess himself, Victor places a hand gently on Yuuri's back and it's like releasing a pressure valve. _Trust your instincts_ , Victor whispers to him. In those moments, Yuuri doesn't care about _why,_ he just wants Victor to _stay._

"Okay, Yuuri close your eyes." Minako says.

Yuuri snaps out of his thoughts. "What, why?"

"I'm going to ask you a question and I want you to tell me the first answer that comes to your mind. You are a good judge of character but let your insecurities throw them off kilter. So just humour me and clear your mind."

Yuuri takes a deep breath and closes his eyes.

"Tell me, is Victor for real?"

Yuuri's eyes snap open, the answer is echoing off the walls.

 _YES._

Victor comes to pick him up around midnight. "I don't want you to be swept away by the bogeyman." Victor teases him. "Maybe we can cuddle up to a movie tonight."

When Victor laughs, Yuuri thinks his mouth looks like a heart.

Maybe his instincts are on to something.


	5. Chapter 5

"But I have seen the best of you and the worst of you, and I choose both." — Sarah Kay and Phil Kaye, _An Origin Story_

* * *

 _Nikiforov,_ that's the last name Yakov gives him as part of his new identity. It takes him out of official government records and Victor doesn't care enough for his original last name to even remember it. Victor is raised by nannies, his parents are alive, but not in any significant way. He runs away from 'home' at 10 years old because why not? He catches Yakov's attention pick pocketing strangers on the subway. Victor Nikiforov starts training in St. Petersburg at age 11, he is considered a prodigy by 16.

"Pay attention!" The instructor today was for marksmanship but Victor prefers hand to hand combat so he keeps zoning out.

In training they teach you the weight and range of guns. Which materials can escape which detectors and which are better left in duffel bags, when it's much faster to just bribe your way through. This is how you clean it, oil it, assemble and disassemble it. This is the sound it makes when it's jammed, when it's running on it's last bullet, when there is a silencer or modification. This is how a veteran holds it, how the desperate and scared hold it, this is how to wound and this is how to kill.

 _Don't put your finger on the trigger until you're ready to squeeze, learn how to breathe with the recoil if you insist on long range models. Memorize the distance scales, don't always depend on a sight, travel time and wind speed will depend on altitude. aim for the head for efficiency but the torso for a guarantee._

Victor spends his free time in refining his tactical knowledge because he's got little else to do.

The soft skills aren't so clear cut. No one gets any official training, you're expected to pick up what you can from the environment, a skill in itself. Those who insist on gaining knowledge through experience run into a dangerously steep learning curve, but Victor finds a much safer alternative. He eavesdrops on conversations when Yakov's men gather for drinks, alcohol mixed with ego is a potent elixir for indiscretion. They talk for hours, sharing war stories, bragging about the how and the why all the while Victor takes notes.

 _A hug is just another way to hide your face. Kisses are great for slipping a partner something under the radar. Make sure you have eyes on their hands at all times, takes quite a bit of force to stab someone so staying in close proximity prevents that momentum._

Victor's heard the stories and there seems to be a common theme. He starts to use sex as a tactic just as they say, for information, for an alibi, for a couple of hours where he doesn't have to be alone, Victor heeds their warning and keeps his eyes low enough to look closed, monitors the location of roaming hands in relation to his vitals, even with nothing but a film of sweat between their bodies, Victor keeps everyone at arms length. It's pretty effective as a tactic, pretty fun as an activity and it certainly caters to his self esteem but... Victor doesn't really get it.

No one bats an eye at sleeping with your clients, your targets, your colleagues. Physical intimacy was a means to an end, until it isn't. The gossip that follows is also quite telling.

They talk about those that aren't cut out for the job, talk about it in sneering condescension and roar with laughter because they are just _so_ above it all.

 _...I knew he was done for... did you see the tape?... had his eyes closed, what an idiot... no wonder she tranq'd him..._

They talk about having attachments like it's a shameful secret.

 _If you find yourself emotionally compromised to a colleague, or worse, a civilian, get the hell out. The best line of action in that situation is to run like your life depends on it because it does. Failing that, kill them because once word gets out, you're both as good as dead anyways._

 _Leave them or kill them, those were the options._

Victor decides it's one of those thing that happens to _other_ people. _Not my problem._ All his jobs feel like business transactions whether he likes it or not. It's a service industry, sure people need him to do this and they need him to get that but if Victor didn't take the offer someone else will eventually. Victor was a weapon the way his clients were a pay cheque.

 _Being alone and self reliant is the key to success._

He abides by this philosophy and it takes him to the top _._ Victor lives in the lap of luxury, rubbing shoulders with international elites and chases adrenaline like he's looking for answers. It gets stale, _fast_.

So he starts indulging in reckless behaviour, trying to tempt his own mortality.

The people Victor encounters smell fear better than any animal, and they know when you have something to lose. Well jokes on them, Victor puts his life on the line and walks away with it. Every. Single. Time. It doesn't occur to him that having nothing to lose means having nothing worth losing. Victor turns twenty three before he starts to wonder if he's immortal. Always flirting with death but never letting it catch you will do that.

 _What's the worst thing that could happen? They kill me? Bring it._ Victor waits for the day he meets his match.

Will it be someone younger or older? A man or a woman? A game of wits or race of reflexes. Look hard enough and it almost resembles a death wish. Victor never meets someone who can grant it.

Then he meets Katsuki Yuuri and this is NOT how things were supposed to go.

 _Kill them with kindness_

* * *

Yuuri avoids Victor after he bombs a meeting with a potential investor, Victor watches all the words pile up on Yuuri's tongue and fall out in a tangled mess. They've done this hundreds of times before, the numbers are all there to back him up but the investor leaves looking visibly unimpressed. Afterwards, Victor tries to pull Yuuri out of his downward spiral; _let's practice it again, we can go over anything you're not sure about, make the pitch to me as if I were a client_. Yuuri declines all the above and curls up in bed for the better half of a day, three days in a row.

Yuuri ignores calls, leaves emails unanswered and refuses to meet with anyone, Victor included.

 _Maybe it's time for a break._

Victor invites Yuuri to accompany him to brunch on the upcoming Saturday, Yuuri asks if they have a meeting planned and Victor says "No, just for the two of us." A blush works itself up Yuuri's face but his expression is determined when he says yes.

"Great, it's a date." Victor's eyes smile before the rest of him does.

The cafe plays music that reminds Victor of his time in Italy, the lyrics remind him of something a little closer to home. Victor realizes that if he wants Yuuri to open up, he has to lead by example. _Meet me in the middle_. So he tells slightly censored stories from his trips abroad and feels Yuuri tentatively peek out from his self imposed isolation. Before long, Yuuri's eyes are sparkling and asking questions no one's ever asked Victor before. "What does that mean?" Yuuri asks because Victor keeps mindlessly singing under his breath. The question makes Victor uncomfortable in a way he can't understand. _Lead by example,_ Victor reminds himself, and says "Stay close to me, and never leave."

It comes out like a pleading request. Lucky for him, Yuuri silently accepts with a bashful smile. Yuuri offers to go to ice castle afterwards.

"I used to spend a lot of time here when I was a child, Minako encouraged me to take up ice skating seeing how I excelled in ballet. Yuko and Nishigori is on staff here so they let me skate here whenever it wasn't booked, but then I moved away for college and it's been a while since I've been back."

Victor used to skate back in Russia, he was proficient enough to go toe to toe with any given amateur. Victor doesn't tell Yuuri this.

"Wow, you're a natural." Victor has Yuuri holding his hands to help 'stabilize' even though he could do laps blindfolded, but Yuuri has such warm hands so he just lets the misconception slide. Victor tells Yuuri about the outdoor skating rink in Moscow, about how it's beautifully lit by festive lights in January, how it's filled with people and laughter and puffs of breath in the crisp night air.

"The atmosphere always feels cozy no matter how cold it is." Victor never told anyone this since he never had anyone to tell. "We should go there together, you'd love it." Victor says without meaning to, it just kind of slips out. There's a jolt of regret when he realizes he could never follow up on the suggestion but Yuuri just looks so hopeful that maybe, just maybe, he could make it work. _What's happening to me?_

That night, Victor tries to get Yuuri to share his bed, he mopes when Yuuri says no. It doesn't bother him or his playboy reputation that it's been nearly four months since he's moved to Hasetsu and failing to bed a target is definitely noteworthy at this point. If anything, he feels disappointment because Yuuri held his hand all afternoon and it's become Victor's preferred state of being.

Yuuri puts Victor as his emergency contact the next time he goes in for a check up, Victor knows because he tagged along.

They play black jack and poker. Yuuri beats him at both.

 _I count cards_ , Yuuri says.

 _You have a tell_ , Yuuri teases him and refuses to divulge any more.

Victor has spent his share of time in Casinos, a lot of business happened over those green felt tables and no one has managed to decode his poker face. Yet Yuuri will call his bluff every time, _this kid could make a killing,_ he thinks while handing over the last of his pocket change. If he's honest, Victor is quite impressed and even a little flattered. _Yuuri must be looking at me an awful lot to be able to spot a tell._

Victor is staring intently at his hand when Yuuri pokes him in the swirl of his hair. Victor dejectedly asks if his thinning hair is THAT noticeable before dramatically face planting into the floor. A flustered Yuuri assures him it's not and let's him win the next round.

Yuuri always takes the pot, and Victor always wants a rematch. They bet on who's turn it is to do house chores and one time Victor tries to secure a spot in Yuuri's bed for the night in exchange for a months worth of floor washing. _All in,_ Victor says. Yuuri squints at his face and smirks. The floors are spotless for the next 30 days.

Victor tells himself that it doesn't matter if Yuuri can tell when he's lying (but it does).

Yuuri has near psychic intuition and Victor wants to prove it to them both. He swipes a few financial profiles from former clients, _these idiots always have their passcodes on a rotation_ , and asks Yuuri to make predictions based on the provided context. Yuuri surpasses his expectations.

 _I don't know, it just feels.. right._

 _Well, it is._

Victor tells Yuuri to trust himself.

 _If I trust you, then you can too. No one doubts your abilities, let the results speak for themselves._

Yuuri looks deep in concentration for a moment before something clicks and he looks wide eyed at Victor.

 _You... trust me?_

* * *

Yuuri stays up until dawn scribbling in a notebook, mumbling to himself. At first Victor thinks its in preparation for the upcoming pitch, then he sees Yuuri's hand playing on an imaginary keyboard and realizes he's composing. Yuuri tells him he used to play piano and turned to his keyboard for a confidante.

 _"It was a way for me to sort out my thoughts. It was difficult to reach out to people, I was afraid they would pity me, and think I was weak. I've always been clumsy with words, they're never accurate enough." Yuuri says wistfully. "But the piano doesn't judge, and writing on a musical staff felt a lot easier. When the piece was done, listening to it was like getting an explanation for all those feelings I couldn't make sense of, like I'm telling myself a story."_ _While studying, Yuuri tried to write something to use as inspiration. "I thought maybe I could find a sense of purpose, even fulfillment in what I was working for. In the end, all I had was a foundation piece but no matter how I tweaked it, it always fell flat. It sounded lonely and underwhelming, which I guess wasn't too far off."_ _Inspiration fizzled out once he got back home, feeling unaccomplished and generally stuck in a rut, Yuuri had no basis to finish the piece._ _But recently his fingers have been itching to write and Yuuri revisits the piece to update it. But something... something is different, he scraps everything and starts with a blank page. Yuuri adds a second melody in the margins, it's the violin, it sounds better this way. Sixteen bars in and Yuuri realizes the story line has changed, there's a new theme at play._

When Victor asks, there is a loaded silence before Yuuri answers. He straightens his back and lifts his chin, Yuuri looks squarely at Victor, ready to own up to his decision. "The theme... is love."

 _Oh._ Yuuri never fails to surprise him. Victor feels an overwhelming surge of pride and affection, the intensity is dizzying. "That's the best theme."

The Victor before Yuuri would have scoffed but the Victor now knows sour grapes when he sees them.

After all, Yuuri has managed to divide his life into two parts.

Before and after (love).

Yuuri flies to Hong Kong for a seminar and Victor decides to sit that one out. He knows enough people in the area that could recognize him as his professional title and prefers to avoid that if possible.

Plus, rumours start flying of Victor's falling out with Yakov, which means, he's a free agent. Granted, Victor could always moonlight on the side as long as the main task gets done. But he has a feeling Yakov was doing some filtering since Victor gets impulsive when bored. He didn't mind, whatever small time criminals has got to offer usually didn't measure up to the high profile clients Yakov put him in contact with. _Guess that old man was a pretty good secretary_.

Now he's got unknown numbers blowing up his phone, cryptic messages and curt voicemails asking for a consultation, all the while Yakov remains suspiciously silent. Victor can't be bothered, he chucks his phone into the ocean and sets out to create a very exclusive list of contacts. So far, Yuuri is the only one.

With this revision, Victor thinks he can finally have some peace and quiet.

Instead, he finds himself pulling out his new phone multiple times an hour to see if Yuuri has texted or called or emailed. _What is Yuuri doing? Is he nervous? Is he safe? Is he thinking about me?_

 _Does he need me?_

 _Does he miss me?_

Victor spams Yuuri with emojis. Yuuri's phone won't stop dinging mid-presentation and he almost gets kicked out.

* * *

Yakov gets a call from Victor's employer asking for an explanation, _what is this I hear about The Russian Skater starting a feud?_

Yakov manages to smooth things over and decides if Victor is hell bent on his stubbornness then maybe it's time for a wake up call. He goes to Plisetsky, and asks for footage of Victor and Yuuri together. Well they certainly have quite the selection. Plisetsky gives him a few blurry snapshots of them in the living room. Victor has an elbow propped on Yuuri's shoulder, they're doing nothing in particular, Yuuri is smiling and Victor's face is turned towards him, expression hidden.

"Send it to a low risk client who could have a little fun with it." He tells Plisetsky. "Victor is long overdue for a reality check."

Just a few photos, the resolution so low you can hardly read the time on a clock face, is enough to condemn. Victor forfeited his immunity, and he was going to get a taste of a very powerful weapon; blackmail.

* * *

Victor asks Yuuri to video call after the seminar, they agree for 8:00 PM but Yuuri isn't online and has his phone turned off when Victor tries to call. Victor is a little nervous, but remembers how Yuuri has a habit of running late and sleeping in, _it's probably nothing_.

Victor gets a call quarter past ten from an unfamiliar number and almost ignores it before he notices the area code is from Hong Kong. Yuuri's voice is on the other side with an apology, he sounds distressed and very reluctant to go on video.

 _I lost my phone._ Yuuri says and it sounds like a half truth.

 _Just use your laptop,_ Victor pouts. _I miss seeing your face._

Yuuri caves, Victor sees him and stiffens.

 _Yuuri gets jumped on his way back to the hotel. A group of teenage girls approach him asking for directions. Just as he pulls out his phone, someone flings a black bag over his head and punches him to the ground. They throw a few more jabs and kicks before taking his phone and wallet. Yuuri hears "Say hi to Victor for me" before the assailant gives one last kick and runs off into the dark._

Victor is seething. _Don't lose your temper, anger is a secondary emotion to mask fear and pain._ He wants to do something about it RIGHT NOW but that's not what Yuuri needs so he suppresses what he can and asks Yuuri if hes okay. There's a dark bruise forming along Yuuri's jaw and his bottom lip is swollen on the right side where a punch split it open. There are probably more on his torso, defensive wounds on the forearms, scrapes on his knees. Yuuri is a little shaken up but insists they're just scratches.

Victor sees red for blood, for danger, for fury. Yuuri asks Victor if he's got on someones bad side. Victor doesn't answer, only asks Yuuri to stay put and promises to get there as soon as possible.

 _But not before I pay someone a visit first._

Victor books a flight to Hong Kong, tracks Yuuri's phone ( _didn't even take the battery out, amateur_ ) and traces it to an apartment complex. The man knows who Victor is by the expression he wears, he just gets on his knees and begs for mercy.

"Give me a name and I'll spare you."

"I'll tell you anything you want! I don't know his name but I still have the number! I was just paid to rough up some kid and deliver a message! That's all I know! It was just a job!" The man cries crocodile tears when Victor points a gun to his face. "No! No! Please let me go, you said you'd spare me! "

"Oh, you must have misunderstood." The man goes quiet when it dawns on him. "This is me sparing you."

Victor puts a bullet between his eyes.

The number leads to a former client he's met and dropped years ago. Ren, a rich second generation with money to burn, looking to feel like god, running a cartel exporting Ketamine to the west. He wants Victor to oversee a shipment from Hong Kong through to Canada. International waters are tricky when you have a freight container filled with narcotics.

 _Name your price._ Ren laughs, cocky and self important. _As if there was a number I couldn't afford._

Victor gets it done, makes sure it gets past customs and the corresponding paper work goes through. Then he shows up at Ren's apartment for his payment.

"But I gotta say, Victor. It's not like you to leave the game to find someone you want to protect." Ren slaps down a couple of glossy photos, Victor spares a glance and sees candids of him and Yuuri. _So THAT'S why Yakov's giving radio silence._

"Anyways, you're wasted as an asset. Good thing for me though, back when Yakov micromanaged you, I could never seem to get through. But you two must've had quite the squabble, he's just handing out your information like candy. Now I can just send some disposable to give your boy a friendly greeting and living legend Victor himself shows up like a loyal mutt. That's what I call convenience."

Victor asks for a scale.

"Why? You want gold or something?" Ren sounds annoyed. "Just write down a number I'll transfer it to your account."

"I don't want gold, Ren. I want my _payment_." The atmosphere shifts and Ren starts reaching for his phone.

"Call security if you like, I don't intend on staying that long." Victor already has a switchblade in his hand. "Now, about that scale..."

Ren's guards are faster than Victor anticipated, he almost gets grazed by a bullet leaving them a message of his own.

 _This is a memo for all future clients. You want something done? Okay, but know that THIS is only currency I deal in._

Victor leaves a plastic ziplock bag on the food scale, the contents weigh exactly 453.59 grams, digital display accurate to 2 decimal places.

 _One pound of flesh._

* * *

By the time he washes away the evidence, Victor's anger has decomposed into it's true state: fear and pain.

Yakov made his point clear, if Victor wants to keep Yuuri safe then he best stay the hell away. Fine, maybe it was time to make a trip to Russia and have a conversation. Victor doesn't want to leave Yuuri, he just really, really doesn't. But this is what it's come down to, even if he came clean, it'll all be over anyways.

 _Break his heart._

Victor knew that was part of the deal when he first took this job. He also knew he was in way over his head half way through the banquet. _But.. but what?_ The damage is done. Yuuri can be heartbroken or Yuuri can be dead. Victor makes his choice even though he knows the consequences are mutual.

 _I'm running,_ Victor calls himself a coward. He's on his way to meet Yuuri at the hotel. _I'm running away._

"Bad timing but I've gotten a better offer from a former partner. I went to Hasetsu because it sounded fun and I needed a break but this whole thing is just more work than it's worth. Well Yuuri, it's been a pleasure but my vacation is over." Victor bares his teeth and hopes it could pass for a smile. "I'm withdrawing all my support, financial and otherwise so I can focus on this new venture. Whether or not Yutopia will hold up is entirely up to you but if you want my opinion, that place is nothing but a money sink. Actually, I don't even know why you're even trying at this point. You should start looking into which contractor's offer to accept instead, it'll prove to be a better pay off. That's my advice to you. Our association from here on out is over, I wish you the best of luck."

Yuuri's expression is frozen, with his split lip and bruised jawline, Victor stares Yuuri down the entire time and it's like standing barefoot on a hot plate. _Don't waver, don't waver, don't waver._

"Why are you trying to test me?" Tears pool over the rim of Yuuri's eyes, running down his face in two streams.

 _you have a tell_

"You know exactly why I'm doing this! Because I want to prove myself worthy of your time!" Yuuri's voice cracks and he's practically screaming. "I'm not stupid, Victor! I know you have a second cellphone that you swap out every couple of weeks, I know you have personal accounts with two off shore banks yet only deal in cash, I know you memorize car plates like its a reflex and look for cameras every time you walk into a room."

 _I count cards_

"I know you have enemies that want to hurt you and I know you care about me because they went after ME instead!" Yuuri yells at him with his brows knotted, tears and snot dripping onto the floor. "Victor, I know you have a past, maybe one you're running from but I know that if you're trying to leave it's to protect me!"

"Yuuri... how long have you known this?" Victor stands in front of a crying, unarmed man, he feels vulnerable and powerless. "Why didn't you say anything?"

"Because i don't care about any of that. I know you for real, Victor! If you wanted to keep it from me, you should've worked on your acting skills! "

 _trust your instincts_

 _the smile is in the eyes_

"You're not leaving because you want to and we both know it so DON'T start trying to pull that shit with me right now! You might be able to out run your past but I SWEAR TO GOD I _WILL_ track you down if you start running from me too!" Yuuri's shoulders shake in sobs. "Open your eyes! I know all of this and I'M STILL HERE!"

"I... I don't know what to say..."

"You don't have to say anything! _Just stay close to me and never leave!"_

* * *

They return to Hasetsu the next day. The two of them are at a bit of a stand off, the tension never fully dissipates after their fight and neither know what to do. Victor goes for a jog and comes back to find a CD on his pillow.

 _This is the song Yuuri's been working on_ , Victor is almost scared to listen but he wants to know what Yuuri wants to tell him. Victor listens to the entrance of drums, followed by the swell of violin that transforms a poignant piano motif into a manic, passionate confession, it's powerful and bittersweet and he feels something overflow into his throat. _Ah, I get it now_ , Yuuri has spelled it out for him too.

 _You're the violin, Victor._

Just as the melody closes on a quiet, pleasing note, Victor hears someone enter. Yuuri stands there with a tentative expression, _do you like it?_

 _When Yuuri finally finishes the piece, he reaches out to a conservatory student that he studied with to have it recorded. He wants to surprise Victor, the person who inspired the metamorphosis of this theme, the story of how Yuuri discovers love._

Victor removes his headphones and walks up to Yuuri. He reaches out to cup Yuuri's jaw, leans in and presses his mouth to Yuuri's slightly parted lips. He feels Yuuri tense for a split second in surprise before completely melting into Victor in reciprocation. He can taste Yuuri's smile and it runs down him like warm honey.

 _Those men in St. Petersberg were wrong. A kiss is not a means to an end._

It's Yuuri's first kiss and in a way, Victor's as well.

 _I get it now, Yuuri. I finally get it._

He kisses Yuuri the way he was taught to never kiss anyone, with his eyes closed and heart open.


	6. Chapter 6

"Tell me every terrible thing you ever did, and let me love you anyway." ― Sade Andria Zabala, Coffee and Cigarettes

* * *

 _Mr. Katsuki Yuuri, it's nice to meet you. What brings you here all the way from Japan?_ Victor mentally practices his greeting, debating on if he'll hit them with that knock out smile before or after a firm handshake. Though he isn't usually one for planning, Victor thinks fast on his feet, and it's much easier to catch people by surprise if he reacts in real time. No one can anticipate what Victor will do next if he doesn't even know himself, his unpredictability gives him an edge, lets him stay half a move ahead.

Yuuri beats him to the punch every step of the way and can't even remember it the next morning.

Victor remembers the banquet just fine given that he never drinks on the job. The only alcohol he comes in contact with is what Yuuri spills into his jacket. Upon arrival, Victor scopes out the place in order to assemble a layout of the hall. He spots Yuuri early on, standing alone by the hors d'oeuvres, the glare on Yuuri's glasses making it hard for Victor to get a read on his face.

When Victor circles around to get a better view, he catches a quick snapshot of Yuuri's expression. Yuuri's eyes are down cast, he stands with his shoulders hunched forward, a flute of champagne resting half forgotten between his middle and index finger. His body language says _don't want to be here_ loud enough.

There's nothing spectacular about him at first glance, attractive but unassuming, plus a serious case of baby face. Victor might not have even noticed this man if he weren't literally the target.

Yuuri shrouds himself in an air of detachment, it's a familiar look, a raw version of _something_ Victor recognizes in himself. _Guarded? Aloof?_

A closer inspection reveals an underlying hardness in Yuuri's gaze, Victor stops looking when it elicits an involuntary pang in his gut. 

Maybe it was just the hideous tie.

Victor weaves in and out of the crowds, waiting on an opportune moment to make his approach. He has all the time in the world, the evening has just begun.

Until all of sudden, there's a row of empty flutes lining the table by Yuuri and Victor stares a little too long because he has no idea when this happened.

Then, Yuuri spots him, Yuuri's eyes sparkle, the ground shifts and both of them feel it. _How cliché._

Victor finds the explanation in that mysterious pang.

Lonely. Katsuki Yuuri looked lonely.

 _I see you. Can you see me?_

* * *

"Victor. That's your real name, right?" Yuuri says rather than asks, this is the first time he brings up subject of Victor's past unprovoked. It's been nearly two weeks since they've returned from Hong Kong. There's no contempt in Yuuri's voice, Victor is equal parts impressed and befuddled. "The way you write it, seems second nature, a fake name wouldn't come so easily."

"How come you didn't push for answers?" Victor asks.

Yuuri shurgs, "I dunno. Guess I figured you left it behind for a reason." He bites down on his lip, reluctant to give up the rest of the answer.

 _I didn't want to break the illusion._

"You always told me to trust my own judgement and yeah, I had doubts but spending all that time with you... it was genuine. Wasn't it?" Yuuri purses his lips off to one side, looking up tentatively at Victor, looking for confirmation.

 _You can keep your past but just... just as long as you give me your time now. Just a little longer, that's all I wanted._

Victor visibly melts, just a little. "What made you think I left it behind?"

"Because you're still here too."

Besides, Yuuri thinks Victor's had more than enough chances to screw him over. He never left with Plisetsky, after all.

"He wasn't really your godson, was he?" Yuuri asks the next evening, as Victor is chowing down his second bowl of Katsudon. When Victor freezes mid bite, Yuuri attributes the lack of response to a lack of context. "Plisetsky, I mean. The Russian Yuri."

"How do you know his name?" Victor exclaims, eyes wide and a grain of rice stuck next to the corner of his mouth. A far cry from the immaculate mirage that Yuuri could not bring himself near in those early months, choosing to revere from a distance. And now, as they both sit crossed legged on the tatami, Victor's hair flat on one side from an impromptu nap, blissfully unaware of the food on his face, Yuuri realizes how foolish he'd been.

Yuuri smirks, he's petty enough to find enjoyment in bombarding Victor with the loose ends. After all, Victor is only human; there are shortcomings and blind spots even the most rigorous training cannot eliminate. Plus, Yuuri thinks it's incredibly cute.

 _Your imperfections make you real._

"Well for one, he seemed to respond every time someone called my name." Yuuri initially assumed that Plisetsky went by something other than his first name to keep things from getting confusing. Although, that godson story has always been a bit fishy. "Was he a colleague? At fifteen?"

"Damn Yuuri," Victor snorts. "you really are _something else_."

Plisetky was rough around the edges but how many teenagers aren't? So Yuuri tried his best to strike up a conversation, fishing with a wide net of topics that he considered to be fool proof. Yuuri suspects family life to be a touchy subject, so he sticks with something a little more lighthearted.

 _What do you do for fun?_

 _Music?_

 _Books?_

 _Social Media?_

He soon discovers that Plisetsky doesn't watch any TV shows or movies, doesn't play video games, and has no apparent hobbies or friends. When Yuuri pressed, Plisetsky curtly responds that he's usually _too busy,_ shutting the conversation down. The triplets have better luck when they invite Plisetsky over to play Mario Kart. According to Yuuko, he almost ends up whipping a controller out the window until Loop reminds him that he'll need that for a rematch. She also confirms Yuuri's suspicions (" _Did you know his name is Yuri too?"_ ).

Still, it seems a little off that a fifteen year old would travel to a completely foreign country for weeks at a time and no one calls to check on him. When the subject of family comes up, Yuuri is tempted to point it out to Victor but decides otherwise when Victor shows no indication that this is out of the norm.

Victor always seemed surprised when Yuuri's mom called him during days out, asking questions as moms tend to do.

 _Have you eaten? Are you coming home for dinner? It's going to get chilly tonight, did you bring your hat?_

"You're very close with your parents," Victor commented, like it was a strange concept. This is around the time Yuuri begins to notice all that he's been taking for granted. When Yuuri musters up the courage to ask Victor about his parents, he braces himself for a worst case scenario. Victor's response is somehow sadder.

"Are they still alive?"

"I don't know, probably." Victor responds like he's talking about the weather.

"Estranged?" Each question brings Yuuri a figurative step closer to Victor, and without the distance, the illusion begins to crumble.

"Yeah, I guess you can say that. They were both in high power, high demand positions and I didn't interact with them much, they were overseas most of the time. I had some nannies that I remember but then I uh... was enrolled in a boarding school during early adolescence. It was very strict, closed off, minimal outside communication, that kind of deal." Victor seems nonchalant about it. "I just lost touch."

"Oh." _Oh._ Yuuri's heart sinks to his stomach. Victor doesn't notice because this is what he grew up with. So whatever he was doing didn't have childhood as part of the itinerary. _Get' em young and they'll hit the ground running._

The pieces were starting to fit together, Victor comes from a background of social isolation, specialized training, significant wealth and above all, confidentiality. Most people could get somewhere with that.

So when Victor comes clean, Yuuri is honestly kind of relieved.

To be fair though, he kind of saw it coming.

* * *

After the whole banquet ordeal, Yuuri spends hours scouring social media for the mystery man called _Victor_. _Just who exactly did I embarrass myself in front of? Was it the alcohol or was he really THAT good looking?_

Yuuri just _has_ to know.

Half a day in and the profile count pushing triple digits, trawling through pages and pages of social media only to hit another dead end, Yuuri reaches out to the one person who could help.

Phichit is surprised but pleased by the phone call. Yuuri's former roommate back in University, Phichit Chulanont, was fast tracked through his high school's advanced placement in Thailand and given a full ride to the IT program at Berkeley two years early. Now, he designs online security for several Fortune 500 companies.

"I need your help, could you find out what you can about this person? His name is Victor and this is his number." Yuuri proceeds to slowly recite the digits to his friend.

"Do you have a last name? Where did you guys meet?" Phichit's questions were coupled with a knowing lilt, one that Yuuri chooses to ignore.

"The guest list had him listed as V. Nikiforov but his card only has Victor, he's a business man I met at this networking event last night."

"And you didn't think to ask?"

"Uh.." Yuuri hesitates. "I had a little too much to drink and wasn't really on top of my game." He gives a liberally condensed version of what he remembers to Phichit, hoping to leave it at that.

"Uh huh." Phichit sounds unconvinced. "So, what's he look like? You remember _that_ right?"

 _Oh I remember alright._ Yuuri knows he can't avoid the interrogation, he cooperates considering it's his best friend and a fair trade for information. "Tall, um, blue eyes, cropped silver-ish hair, mid to late twenties I'd guess. And uh... fashionable?" Yuuri tries really hard to avoid the term _sex in a suit_.

"Fashionable." His friend repeats through barely suppressed amusement.

Phichit starts clacking away on his keyboard. A few minutes later, he exhales. "Well, either you had an unforgettable night with the ghost of a hockey player or Victor goes by a different name."

"Why would he use a fake name?"

"Did you check for a ring? On the right hand or the left?" His friend teases. "Cause Russians wear it on the right."

"Phichit! I'm serious." Yuuri is not amused. (And yes, he DID in fact check both hands).

"So am I. I did my usual search across all the big social media platforms and even a few business oriented directories, I got nothing. Usually, even unlisted numbers leave a trace in the data base but the number you gave me straight up doesn't exist." Phichit drums his fingers on the table top. "Give me some time and I'll do a more detailed run to see if he's just got privacy settings ramped to the max but this is weird. Who did he say he was again?"

"A business man, maybe a consultant or some sort of financial advisor? I can't remember what he said word for word, but a lot of people at the banquet seemed to know him." Again, Yuuri berates himself for such a missed opportunity. "Okay, just let me know if you find anything in the meanwhile."

Phichit chuckles. Yuuri pointedly asks " _What?"_

"I spend four years trying to drag you out to school mixers and you wouldn't even pretend to consider. Now I'm getting a call from you in Sochi, Russia asking about a man who has the online presence of a 90 year old hermit. You must really like this guy, huh?" Phichit's tone is careful, Yuuri feels like it's an accusation.

"Eh? N-no... it's more complicated than that. Like I mean... it's just..."

"You know you could just call him yourself..." Phichit slyly prods at him.

"Uh huh." Yuuri knows he could, he also knows he won't. "Just- just let me know."

He hangs up and waits.

When Phichit finally calls him back, the playful lilt in his friend's voice is gone. "There's virtually nothing on him, I even looked into governmental databases, no birth certificate, no educational history, not even a freaking drivers licence. Russian servers can be inconsistent but getting basic info like this is pretty standard for anyone with an internet connection. In my experience, this kind of blank slate, well... it's usually intentional."

Phichit has dirt on everyone, short of being a literal hermit, it's inevitable to rack up a few tally marks in ones lifetime. His experience says in no uncertain terms that the most incriminating record is a nonexistent one. Not having a criminal record is one thing, but not having _any_ kind of record just means the former is well hidden and likely extensive at that.

"Yuuri, be careful." Phichit is uncharacteristically solemn. "He's off record for a reason."

 _Oh well,_ Yuuri was never planning to call him anyways.

* * *

"Where are you!? We're going to be late!" Yuuri urges when Victor finally picks up. Lately, Victor has been going through phone numbers like tissue paper, the previous number Yuuri had been calling was only in use for two days before Victor decided to unceremoniously ditch it this very morning. Not only that, Victor doesn't even think to text Yuuri his new number until less than a minute ago.

 _Stupid Victor._

The seminars Yuuri has been attending turn out to be more fruitful than expected. With his blossoming confidence, Yuuri manages to secure contact with an agent representing the bank of Da Lian. One of their investors is interested in branching out in foreign tourism, specifically targeting undiscovered small towns that are rich in culture and relatively off the grid. The agent calls to say he'll be flying over to Kyoto for some business and Yuuri asks for a chance to make his pitch. They agree to meet at the agent's hotel, Victor is picking out the conference room before Yuuri gets off the phone.

Victor has been helping him put together an iron clad presentation for their meeting, they've been revising and practising around the clock until Yuuri has it memorized to a tee. Victor even styled Yuuri's hair, combing it all back and smoothing any unruly strands down with gel.

Victor was also supposed to check in at the front desk hours ago. Yuuri is going to give that man a piece of his mind when he finally gets here.

"Yuuri!" Victor calls out when he strolls into the front lobby, dressed to the nines, turning the heads of guest and staff alike.

Yuuri isn't wearing his glasses and can't single out which blob called out to him, instead he just follows everyone else's gaze to a fast approaching figure.

Victor walks up to him, leans in and says, "You look _vkusno_."

Yuuri has to take a second to remember that he's supposed to be really mad.

"You're late." He tries to will away the blush staining his cheeks. "We didn't check in on time so the room we booked was taken by someone else. We got downgraded to a smaller one but the equipment is the same so we should be fine."

"Hmm." Victor presses a finger up to his lips, eyes scanning around to the front desk. "Hang on, I'll get our room back."

 _He sure is careless with his charms, Minako once noted with a generous eye roll._

Yuuri disagrees.

Victor, who flashes his playboy smile to persuade uncooperative strangers, can be _very_ careful when he wants to be. Victor's blue eyes dance with mischief, looking up at his victim through his eyelashes, chin tucked and an elusive smile playing on his lips. Like cloying sweets served on a silver platter, wrapped a two tone melody.

 _For me?_

Yuuri knows from first hand experience how hard it is to say no, has even fallen for it knowingly because, well... _it's Victor_. Though in his defence, Victor always looks at Yuuri with sincerity, with his hair pushed back, with nothing but open warmth.

So Yuuri has seen the real thing enough times to recognize a cheap imitation. Like how Victor's got his hair carelessly (or so it seems) flopped over his left eye, a veil for his hidden intentions, half covered for half truths.

Fake, calculated, and definitely not his first time. ( _Old habits die hard._ )

Yuuri can feel his insides bleed acid, his anxiety is going to have a field day with this. He pushes it all down in the meantime, opting to focus on the upcoming meeting.

But there's Victor leaning unnecessarily close to the concierge, soft laughter like wind chimes when the mildly flustered employee slides over the conference room key .

Floppy haired Victor accidentally (not even a little), innocently (no) caresses his fingers over the back of her hand during their exchange and Yuuri is willing to bet, while glaring holes into the back of Victor's head, that there was a wink thrown in for when they inevitably check out at least another two hours late.

When he finally turns around, Victor is clearly preening with triumph, waving the key card in Yuuri's direction. Yuuri isn't sure what his face was doing but he's glad it's enough to wipe that annoyingly handsome smirk off Victor's face. Right when Victor squints curiously at his expression, about to ask ( _stupid, stupid Victor_ ), the elevator arrives.

It buys Victor about 15 more seconds before the doors slide closed and Yuuri's hand darts out like a viper to yank on the other man's designer necktie.

 _YANK_

Victor is thrown off balance, his arms flapping in a rare moment of gracelessness.

"Eyes on me, Victor." Yuuri demands, his firm grip keeps Victor from pulling back to fully regain footing.

 _Only me._

Victor doesn't seem to mind.

"Of course." He says, hushed and breathless.

When Yuuri lets go, he looks to see if Victor really means it and is met with quite a sight.

Blue eyes dilated, lips slight parted, Victor looks ready to devour.

 _you look vkusno_

Yuuri, in an outburst of possessiveness, essentially manhandles Victor just to boss him around.

 _oh how the tables have turned._

Victor responds by getting excited. Like, _Excited_ excited.

 _aroused_

Yuuri doesn't dare look into it because they're alone in a slow elevator and doing so could snowball into an inappropriate situation very fast. They've worked too hard on this presentation for it to be dismissed by scandal, Yuuri wants it to be memorable for the client, not traumatizing.

When the meeting starts, Yuuri is riding the tails of his jealousy induced assertiveness. The agent looks intimidated but impressed, listening intently, occasionally asking questions with genuine interest. With quiet confidence and compelling points supported by hard data, Yuuri ensures that his audience is fully engaged until the closing bit.

"Do you have any questions? Comments? I'm more than happy to go over anything for clarification."

"This has fantastic potential, my client will be very pleased." The agent says, beaming and furiously typing something into his phone. "Mr. Katsuki, you really blew my expectations out of the water. Be prepared to deliver this presentation again to a bigger audience, I'd like to schedule something before the end of the month."

By the time they shake on it, Yuuri's burst of confidence was starting to wane but he wears the costume until the client walks out the door and disappears around a corner.

 _Phew, that was kind of embarrassing._

Regardless, they now have a meeting with the commercial loan manager of a major bank in Da Lian to discuss their sponsorship of not only Yutopia but the entire tourism sector of Hasetsu. Victor, face lit up like a Christmas tree, ponders out loud if he should try and provoke Yuuri into this state more often. Yuuri asks if Victor can charm front desk into giving them separate rooms. Victor loops his arms around Yuuri's waist, plants a kiss on Yuuri's cheek and says he's sorry even though they both know he's not.

Yuuri barely manages to hold his pout trying not to smile.

That very night, while discussing the logistics of pushing two queen beds together without blocking the electric socket conveniently located smack in the middle, Victor's phone rings non stop.

"This number is only six hours old." Victor sighs, after disassembling the device into parts. The silence between them stretches uncomfortably thin. "Yuuri."

Yuuri plops himself onto one of the beds. "We're gonna do this now, huh."

"When else?"

 _(How's never?)_

"Yeah. Okay."

Victor is right, they've put this conversation off for long enough.

"Yuuri." Victor says like his name like an apology.

"So when are you leaving?"

Several weeks ago, in Hong Kong, Victor tried to reason with Yuuri after he gets called out for a frankly appalling attempt at a cover story.

"This is only the beginning, Yakov is making a statement and I don't know how much is a bluff." Victor says, towards the tail end of their fight at the hotel. "I have to go back to Russia." Victor says and Yuuri's stomach knots with urgency at what he really means. _you're right, but I'm still leaving_ _sorry_ _goodbye_ Between the exhaustion, the injuries, and an onslaught of confrontations, Yuuri is understandably hysterical. For the same reasons, Yuuri is also painfully honest. Through tears, he pours out the contents of his heart. "You're the first person I've ever wanted to hold on to!" "I'm afraid of losing you." "This feeling, I don't know what else to call it..." These words work their way under Victor's skin, under his fingernails, under his silence. _because what else is there to say?_

By the time Yuuri is all cried out, Victor is still at a loss for words. So Victor does what he does best and pushes the topic aside for more practical conversation ( _Let's figure out our returning flights_.) They fly back to Hasetsu together and their unfinished conversation is packed into the luggage along with Yuuri's dirty laundry.

Victor thought it would be best to give Yuuri some down time before rehashing the topic, that perhaps Yuuri will also be more receptive in the familiar settings of home. He goes on runs in the meanwhile, hoping to formulate a game plan. Just when he has something concrete to put into action, Victor comes home to a CD on his pillow. _Well, damn._

Then, the agent calls and the whole thing takes them by whirlwind. Victor prioritizes this opportunity and estimates that he has enough leeway to wait until afterwards.

He was right, but now that the grace period is over, Victor isn't sure who dreads the conversation more.

"I want to protect you, this is the only way I know how." "That's not your choice to make." Yuuri says and stands his ground. The layer of nervous tension shed bit by bit in their time together, terror protruding through as anger. "Why don't you ask me what I want? As far as I'm concerned, you can protect me by staying by my side. Victor tries another angle, but he's scraping the bottom of the barrel. "I won't be able to help you with Yutopia if I stay. My accounts, contacts, hell, even the arrangements I've made to keep all these property vultures out of your hair are... conditional on my return. Otherwise, they'll freeze everything they can get their hands on, which is a lot." He smiles ruefully at Yuuri, who doesn't seem to fully grasp the scale of his suggestion. "When that happens, I might not be as useful as you'd like." "Don't insult me like that! Is this supposed to be some kind of deterrent?" Yuuri's shoulders shake when he yells, the room they're standing in feels too small. "I know a lot of the strings you've been pulling are tied back to your past, but even without all that, our Da Lian meeting is still happening, isn't it? That was all us!" Victor opens his mouth to respond, gears already churning, before Yuuri unabashedly cuts him off. "Why are you looking for excuses? Don't you get it yet? I _don't care_ about your _money_ or your _connections_ or you being _useful_." Yuuri grimaces at such an ugly notion. "I want YOU. Just _you_ , just _Victor_. _That's it._ " Victor, lips now pressed into a thin, tight line, can't think of a single thing in response. "If you want to go back, if that's what makes you happy then I have nothing to say. But you need to look me in the face and tell me that's what you REALLY want rather than some... than some convoluted scheme to martyrdom! If you're going to leave, make it genuine." Yuuri thinks he might be out of line, but it doesn't matter; he trusts his instincts, Victor taught him well. "Or else I will follow you there." _Run if you have to, but not from me._ "How can you say something so reckless, you have no idea what some of these people can do." "I mean what I said. It's my decision and I made up my mind." "It's a selfish decision." Victor scolds him, furious. "Why is it selfish for me to chase what I want but not for you to do the same?" Yuuri has no qualms about calling this man on his bullshit. Their anger drips like gasoline, the room is thick with tension, ready to combust into flames. "You're supposed to be here for some job right? How's that going then? The people blowing up your phone, I don't know what they can do, but you know. So why are we still having this conversation then? What are you still doing here?" Yuuri has his fists clenched, body tilted forwards, waiting for his desperation to ignite and propel them both into a timeline where this problem is no longer a problem. Left with no other option, a current of panic rushes through Victor's limbs. _I was really hoping to avoid this._ If his conviction wasn't strong enough to carry through with the original plan (as anticipated), Victor had a wild card that will tip the scales one way or another. He isn't sure if this is the right thing to do but they've come this far and well, the chips will land where they land. "I was assigned to attend the banquet as a means to establish contact with you. The client wants the land deeds to Yutopia because there's a diamond mine underneath potentially worth billions. That's why I came here, Yuuri." "Oh my god." Yuuri whispers, eyes like saucers, barely audible. A breeze slips past the barely cracked window, a few strands of black hair tucked behind Yuuri's ear fall forward against his cheek. The bitter taste in Victor's mouth lingers, _tastes like regret_. He's jolted back when Yuuri scoffs, and boy is it worth hearing. "You know that's just a rumour, right?" Yuuri is surprisingly composed, and even a little amused. " _What?_ " "The diamond mine beneath Yutopia?" Yuuri, bewildered that such a ridiculous rumour has the credibility that it does, clarifies for them both. Victor nods, just barely. Yuuri actually laughs. "Remember when I told you my family got swindled when we bought the property? Well, it was cause they were told that too. That's how they ended up with a random piece of land in the middle of no where..." _you paid a fortune for this place_ "My great grandparents bought it under that assumption but it wasn't until after the papers got signed and the digging started that they found out it was all a rumour designed to chalk up the price of the land. They were lucky enough to hit a geothermal water reserve but too embarrassed to admit their bad business move so that piece of false information never got dispelled. Instead they just chose to cut their losses and leave it as a hot springs like a lot of other small time businesses in town. And three generations later, we're still here." "Victor, it was just a stupid rumour." Yuuri tells him. "There's no diamonds." It tips the scales indeed, which makes the next part easy. Victor didn't stand a chance.

 _I have to go back to Russia, but I'll be coming home to you._

* * *

St. Petersburg is quieter than Plisetsky is used to, he develops a habit of leaving the radio on in his apartment. A habit that results in some local news channel droning on just loud enough to mask the sounds of a light footed intruder. Plisetsky sees an unfamiliar blur in his peripheral and immediately starts to reach for the folding knife he consistently keeps clipped onto his waistband.

"Don't treat me like a stranger now," The voice is all too familiar, Plisetsky hates that he knows exactly who it is. The knife is reluctantly tucked back into its hiding place, it wouldn't do much good anyways. Plisetsky knows he couldn't win a fair fight given the opponent, too bad he wasn't a fan of handguns.

Victor's ability to bypass his radar is very irritating.

"What are you doing here?" He finds Victor perched on a tall stool in the kitchen, Plisetsky gives the legs a good kick, both chair and intruder toppling towards the tile floor. Victor rolls seamlessly onto the balls of his feet and the former hits the ground with a loud clank.

"You know Yakov's ready to take your head after that little stunt you pulled with Ren." Talk about dramatic.

"His security is more competent than I thought, considering they're just glorified babysitters." Victor is obviously here for a reason and Plisetsky is uncomfortable with all the possibilities.

"What do you want?" Plisetsky asks him, Victor always has a knack for deflecting when he's playing a hand close to his heart. Russia was the last place for Victor to be given everything that's happened. _Victor is here for a reason._

Plisetsky pauses for a beat when Victor shifts to cross his arms in front of his chest. _Defensive body language huh?_

"You're getting sharper." Victor drops his arms when he catches Plisetsky looking but the lines in his hands are still tight.

"Seriously, what do you want? "

"I need your help. Consider it a favour." Victor's voice is low and steady, his eyes boring into Plisetsky's face.

"HA HA" The absurdity of it all has the boy barking out in not quite laughter.

Victor continues without missing a beat, lining up the next hit. Plisetsky is still reeling when it comes.

"I'm resigning." Victor says, just throws it out there like he's run out of witty retorts.

"Oh you have GOT to be kidding me. You of ALL PEOPL-" The boy struggles to reign in his erratically increasing volume. Plisetsky jams his hands into the shallow pockets of his sweater.

"Are you going to tell Yakov for me or does the old man miss me enough to require a personal visit?"

"You're... resigning. Like permanently..." No way in hell is Yakov going to let him leave and Plisetsky doesn't plan on being the dead messenger.

"Yep."

"Who are you?" Plisetsky spits out at him, disgust and incredulity etched into a scowl. "Certainly not the Victor Nikiforov anyone in this business knows."

"Is that why you've given up on having me mentor you?" Victor's voice is controlled. "Because make no mistake, you still have a lot to learn."

Plisetsky scoffs, but otherwise remains silent.

"When Yakov finds out, he'll react... proactively. He can come after me if he wants but I need you to convince him to leave Yuuri out of this."

"How about I convince the old man for a chance to kill that pig myself." Plisetsky jeers, taunting Victor.

"You had a chance, and decided otherwise." Victor snaps back, his icy stare reminiscent of their standoff that night, through the wooden steps leading to Minako's studio.

"Someone interrupted me."

The air buzzes with strife, neither of them is willing to back down. Then, Victor redirects.

"How's surveillance duty? "

"You knew." Plisetsky remembers a handful of times where Victor looks directly through the screen, directly at him, like an act of defiance. Victor never bothers to take the cams down, there was little point, Plisetsky knew the deal the moment he left Hasetsu alone.

 _VIctor's gone for good, this is a lost cause_.

Yet, when Yakov asked him to keep an eye on the pair, Plisetsky obliged when he should have spoken up right then and there.If this was Victor's way of humbling him, it's working.

"Why should I help you?" If anything, Plisetsky starts to come around, this is an opportunity to bargain with an upper hand.

"Here is my offer, keep Yuuri safe and I'll tell you anything you want. You want information? I can get you my entire client list and more than half their personal accounts within twenty four hours. I'll train you if you want, for as long as you want, you'll have my undivided attention."

"You're not exactly in the position to make that offer." Victor will have his plate full with repercussions, the political implications that will follow care not for intention.

"Well then, let's sweeten the pot, if I step down then you're my predecessor, no? Yakov has invested a lot into your training, he's got enough affluence to get your name plastered across the map. Isn't that what you wanted? Infamy, in the most prestigious sense."

What Victor says is true, his resignation will end the legacy of one of the most notorious assets the criminal world has ever seen. It will also give others a chance to step up to the plate and Plisetsky is nothing if not ambitious. But a downside lies in the possibility of living in the shadow of Victor's name, unless...

"Or did you want to be the one that takes me down?" Victor interprets his hesitation all too well.

In reality, Plisetsky knows that even if he gets to be one who pulls the trigger, the bullet is nothing more than a formality. Victor Nikiforov was already dead, fallen, at the hands of some nobody who can't shoot his way out of a wet paper bag. Plisetky has questions, one in particular.

 _Why?_

"You were a living legend. Money, power, respect, anything you could have wanted. And you're willing to throw all that away, in exchange for what? Sneaking around on your own turf, asking a fifteen year old for help? A pathetic, washed up has been, why don't you just roll over and die. "

Victor's fingers are around his neck before he can take another breath. A grip just tight enough to remind Plisetsky how little force it takes to crush a adolescent's windpipe, just loose enough for him to consider his next words. Victor's expression is uncannily neutral, masking how the comment touches a nerve that hasn't yet frozen numb. The only tell resides in the tremor in Victor's fingers, trying to fight the temptation to clench just a little harder.

"I don't want your mentorship, you've fallen from that pedestal a long time ago." Plisestsky's voice is strained, he can't manage enough venom in his tone with the bright spots dotting his vision.

When Plisetsky's eyes begin to turn glassy, Victor loosens his hold just a hair.

Plisetsky knows this chance might be the only one he gets and wrangles himself out fueled by survival instinct and muscle memory. He moves well out of arm range and starts coughing up a lung. When Plisetsky looks up with watery eyes, Victor is smiling and it's only partly vindictive.

"Why?"

Victor just keeps smiling. "First, yes or no?"

"What if I say no." Barely contained rage packed within those five words. Now out of reach, Plisetsky wants to retaliate with his newly acquired bargaining chip.

Victor looked unfazed, almost bored.

"People never think to wipe the hard drive when they delete important information." Victor pulls a phone out from his pocket and starts scrolling through it.

Plisetsky feels goosebumps break out across the nape of his neck when he recognizes the all too familiar silhouette. It's Plisetsky's _personal_ cell, the one that he keeps stashed in an empty deodorant case under the bathroom sink.

"You're paranoid enough to use a burner but not paranoid enough to do more than a soft delete. Rookie mistake, Yuri."

"Don't call me that." The boy scrambles for an out, this conversation is not going where it needs to go.

"Yuuko calls you that." Victor says too casually, he continues scrolling while the boy squirms. Victor raises his eyebrows in amusement before delivering a final blow, ensuring Plisetsky's cooperation. "Or do you prefer _Yuratchka_?"

 _Too late._

"Looks like you've got some ties in Moscow." Victor turns the phone around to show the evidence, the screen is too dim to be read at a distance but Plisetsky can hazard a guess as to what's being displayed. Victor is usually more bark than bite, but it's not a gamble Plisetsky is willing to take.

Victor tosses the phone back to the boy, who then begrudgingly pockets it without a word. And after all is said and done, Plisetsky really could learn a few things.

"What am I supposed to tell Yakov?" This is as close to Yes as Plisetsky's willing to give. "You know he'll be coming after you himself, right? The old man doesn't fuck around."

"Are you worried about me?" Victor asks, his elbow propped on the granite counter top. "Maybe I should send a gift basket."

"If you want my help then stop patronizing me! Give me something to work with."

"You know why the client wanted the deeds right? Why he was willing to pay what he does?" Victor straightens until he is squarely facing Plisetsky.

"Rumours about an untapped mineral mine underneath the property worth exponentially more than what they're investing."

"Right." Victor smiles but the corners of his lips barely manage to inch upwards. "Except there's no mine."

"You're lying." Plisetsky retorts immediately, like a knee jerk reaction.

Victor shrugs. _At this point, why would I?_

"You haven't answered my question." Plisetsky reminds him, but Victor is already headed out the door.

"Nice place, looks like my old apartment."

 _Ah, let the comparisons begin._

"I'm going to forge my own legacy, one that leaves yours in the dirt." The boy says, though it's mostly to himself.

"And then?"

"What do you mean _and then_?" The words scrape against Plisetsky.

"Nothing. I'll be flying over to Da Lian next week, if you're going to tell Yakov, at least wait till I get back."

The door clicks shut behind him.

 _"And then?"_

Plisetsky chews on the question for all its worth.

 _A legacy immortalized in history but you are still flesh and blood. All that wealth and status, but a name only lives on for the living._

 _At some point, there will be a cold body left in some ungodly place, decomposing and irrelevant. On balance of probability, how many circumstances could that happen under? Are they worth dying for?_

 _For a client? A pay cheque? A rival?_

 _(god knows old age is out the equation)_

 _"Why?"_

 _The answer is wedged in that empty deodorant case, operating system now wiped to factory settings. Because having someone to protect is more gift than curse. Because loneliness will make you untouchable in every sense of the word. Because you can become a god only if you're willing to sell your soul._

 _The view is great from the top, just don't let the cold swallow you whole._

* * *

Yuuri had been waiting at arrivals for almost two hours by the time Victor's flight touches down. A large part of his attention dedicated to staring at the listing display, wondering if he can speed up the flight time by sheer will.

 _On time. 94 minutes to go._

 _On time. 71 minutes to go._

 _On time. 56 minutes to go._

How can _on time_ feel so damn late? Victor is gone for approximately forty seven hours and Yuuri think's it's forty eight too long.

Yuuri sees Victor first, they run parallel to the glass corridor, eyes glued to the other before colliding into a long awaited embrace. Bystanders are either moved, envious or a confusing mixture of both.

With all the strength he can muster, Yuuri manages to pry them apart. He holds Victor at arms length, and Victor looks confused, even hurt at the sudden distance.

 _Let me make it up to you._

"Victor, please stay with me," Yuuri asks, "until the end."

 _I've done some thinking, and whatever the end entails, I want to be by your side._

Japanese culture is steeped in subtlety, and Victor has picked up a few things during his stay.

"Sounds like a marriage proposal."

Yuuri can't believe he just got called out like this. But Victor takes Yuuri's hand, kisses his ring finger and everything is more than forgiven. They fall back into each others arms and Yuuri's eyes well up far too fast when Victor whispers, just above his shoulder, "In that case, I wish this would never end."

On the way back from the airport, the two of them sit squished against each other in the back seat of a taxi. When Yuuri begins to doze off, Victor fights the urge to follow suit. Neither of them has gotten any decent rest lately, but Yuuri is sleeping against his shoulder, warm and peaceful, so Victor stays awake to savour the moment.

Victor is sitting by the window, looking at Hasetsu in passing.

 _It's good to be home._

* * *

Plisetsky is left waiting in Yakov's office, told to sit tight while the old man debriefs with an operative after a successful assignment. A young lady named Mila, a few years his senior, was returning from negotiations with the Crispino siblings in regards to an upcoming dead drop taking place in Barcelona. Yakov calls Plisetsky in to do the prep work, which usually involves setting up a base somewhere nearby and making sure there's an exit strategy in case things go wrong. Standard procedure, a little tedious if anything, but Plisetsky is glad for the distraction.

His last conversation with Victor still sloshes around in his mind, not fully digested. For now, Plisetsky chooses to omit the entire thing to Yakov.

 _It's a bad time for everyone right now, this can wait till I get back._

The telephone's shrill ring cuts through his thoughts, it's Yakov's personal line and Plisetsky jumps on the chance to find out who the old man has been shaking hands with.

"Wei?" A woman's voice comes through the speaker.

Plisetsky freezes, betrayed by inexperience, he was not prepared to answer in any language other than Russian.

The caller can read his silence accurately, because Yakov doesn't just give out his personal number to anyone.

"Where is Yakov?" She asks, her English is choppy and lightly accented.

Plisetsky clears his throat before answering. _English, I can do._

"He's busy, what do you what?"

"Put me through to him, I want to make a deal."

"I told you, he's _busy_." His voice teetering on the edge of impatience.

"Oh, he'll want this." She insists, rustling papers can be heard in the background. "It's about Victor Nikiforov."


End file.
